


The Ritual Of Reassurance

by carolinecrane



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vest porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ritual Of Reassurance

Nick's reaching up to take off his vest when the locker room door swings open, and he glances over to find Greg standing in the doorway, mouth open and eyes wide. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Nick asks, smirking as he follows Greg's gaze down his chest. "What, you mean the vest?"

"Leave it on." His voice drops an octave and Nick wants to laugh, because Greg's seen him in his vest a hundred times, but he leaves it on and reaches into his locker for his keys. 

He takes his time closing his locker, checking to make sure his wallet's still in his pocket before he finally makes his way over to Greg, stopping barely a foot away from him. "So does this mean you're coming back to my place?"

"Try and stop me." 

Greg grins as Nick laughs and pushes him out of the locker room, down the hall toward the front door. He hears somebody calling his name, but he just waves over his shoulder and keeps walking, not stopping even long enough to find out what they want. Because he knows that look, knows Greg's been thinking about this for awhile and Nick's not planning to keep him waiting.

When Greg climbs into his truck Nick knows he's not planning to wait, not even long enough to drive his own car to Nick's. And Nick's okay with that, because it means they'll be inside his house a few seconds sooner, alone where they don't have to worry about anybody interrupting.

He pulls into early morning traffic and steps a little harder on the gas, fingers drumming impatiently against the steering wheel. By the time he finally pulls into his driveway he's spent more time looking at Greg than he has at the road, and he doesn't remember the drive but he's thankful he managed not to hit anything on the way. He shuts off the engine and pulls the keys out of the ignition, leaning back against the seat and glancing over at Greg.

Greg who's been practically bouncing since they left the lab, pent-up energy radiating off him and Nick can't help it, he has to lean in for a kiss. Greg meets him halfway, teeth clashing and tongues sliding together and it's quick and messy and hotter than he could have imagined. He manages to slide out from behind the wheel, one knee up on the bench seat and he's practically crawling over Greg, pressing him up against the passenger door.

There's a hand in his hair, clutching tight and if he wasn't so turned on it might hurt. Greg's other hand is fumbling for something behind him, and when Nick hears a click of metal he knows Greg's got the door open. And he could do this right here, but it'll be better if they go inside, because the last thing he needs is his neighbors seeing them on the way out to work and calling the cops. So he lets Greg pull him out of the truck, managing somehow to kick the door shut behind them and steering Greg toward the house, hands on his waist to keep Greg from stumbling.

When they reach the door Nick pushes Greg back against it, pinning him to the wood with his entire body. Greg grinds up against him, surprising a moan out of Nick and then Greg's laughing, hot against him and Nick can't help grinning in response. 

"What's with you?" he asks as they stumble into the house together, his keys falling somewhere just inside the door.

"Are you kidding?" Greg asks, eyes wide as he grips the front of Nick's vest and pulls him further into the house. "Have you seen you in that thing?"

"You've seen my vest before."

"Yeah, but I've never seen you…God…" Greg trails off, letting out a broken moan when Nick's mouth finds his neck, "…seen you in action."

It takes a second for the words to break through the fog settling over Nick's brain, but he finally gets what Greg's trying to say. And he's heard about this, about delayed reactions to stressful situations and the pent-up energy Greg can't seem to get rid of. His heart skips a beat when he realizes that this is all because Greg was worried, and he plants one last kiss against Greg's skin before he pulls back to look at the other man. 

"It was nothing, G." 

For a second Greg's eyes cloud, and Nick regrets saying anything at all. They both know it wasn't nothing – standing at the wrong end of a gun is never nothing, but Nick was never really in danger. He had three armed officers on his side, after all, and their suspect just had a .22 and what turned out to be really bad aim. Still, it was nerve wracking enough to scare Nick, mostly because Greg was still learning the ropes in the field and when the suspect pulled his weapon Nick had no idea where Greg was.

So it was something – just a few tense seconds, but it was enough to scare them both and when Greg grips the front of his vest and pulls him forward Nick doesn't try to stop him. They make it as far as the kitchen, clothes strewn in a path from the front door, but when Nick reaches up to take his vest off Greg's hand comes out to stop him. "Leave it."

Nick's features freeze in a bemused half-smile, shaking his head once and looking down at his still-covered chest. "Greg, come on. I feel like I'm in a bad porn here."

"Good porn," Greg corrects, thumbs in the waistband of Nick's boxers and he grins before he tugs them down. "Very, very good."

And he still feels stupid, but Greg's tugging off the last of their clothes and then a hand closes around his cock, stroking a few times and he forgets all about what he's still wearing. He reaches out, hands sliding over bare skin to find Greg's hips. When he does he pushes Greg backwards, watching him scramble onto the table and God, Nick's never going to be able to eat breakfast at his own table without thinking about this. He's probably never going to be able to put his vest on without getting hard, either, but that's a chance he's willing to take.

Because Greg's leaning back on his elbows, heels on the edge of the table and knees apart and Nick bites back a moan at the sight. His hands slide up Greg's calves, thumbs pressing against his knees as he leans in, pressing hot kisses to the insides of Greg's thighs. He tastes salt and soap and Greg, breathing in warm and arousal and when Greg reaches down to stroke himself Nick moans and slides a hand behind his balls.

He presses at the entrance of Greg's body with one finger, sucking in a sharp breath when Greg groans and presses down into the touch. It takes a second for Greg to relax – one ragged breath, then another, and finally Greg opens for him, drawing Nick's finger all the way inside. He works it in and out slowly, a little deeper each time as Greg strokes himself in time to Nick's tiny thrusts. His own cock twitches at the sight, and it's all he can do not to reach down and take care of himself. But he wants to wait, wants to come inside Greg, to feel tight heat pulsing around him when he finally lets go.

A few more hard thrusts and he pulls his finger out, ignoring Greg's disappointed groan and reaching up to push Greg's hand away from his cock. He replaces it with his own, fingers sliding through slick precome until Greg's thrusting up into his grip. When Greg lets out a broken moan Nick lets go, hand sliding past Greg's balls to push two slick fingers inside him this time. 

Greg's murmuring something, muscles clenching around Nick to pull him in even deeper and back arched hard against the table. Nick spares a second to regret the soreness Greg's going to have in his shoulders later, but he's the one who stopped in the kitchen and there's no way either of them can stop now even long enough to make it down the hall. A second later Greg proves his point by flexing hard against him, knees splayed even further apart and he opens his eyes long enough to look at Nick.

"Now."

One word is all it takes, and Nick's fingers leave Greg again, closing around his cock to line himself up. He pushes into tight heat as slowly as he can stand, fighting the urge to thrust inside in one hard stroke. Greg's never been as patient as him, though, and when long legs wrap around him and pull him forward he lets out a surprised grunt. The sound shifts quickly to a fractured moan, palms pressed flat against the table as he struggles not to come.

When he's sure he can move without losing control he pulls out, thrusting back into tight heat in a steady rhythm. Greg's heels dig into his back, pulling him forward harder and harder until all Nick can do is close his eyes and hold on. Hands close around his wrists, warm and tight and Nick slides one hand out of Greg's grip to thread their fingers together. He forces his eyes open to find Greg watching him, eyes glazed and lips parted and that's all it takes for Nick to lose control.

He comes with a final groan, Greg's legs still tight around him as he shudders out his orgasm. And he wants to collapse, legs shaking under him as he lets go of Greg's hand and reaches for his cock, stroking hard until Greg arches up into his grip and comes. Nick's still buried inside him when he collapses back against the table, legs sliding off Nick's waist and he lets out a disappointed moan when Nick slips out of him. 

"Jesus," Nick murmurs, face still flushed and nerves still tingling just under the surface of his skin. "That was…"

"A start," Greg finishes for him, grinning weakly when Nick laughs. 

"Well we can finish in the shower. I don't think my table can take much more."

Greg lets Nick pull him up, rapping his knuckles against the wood under him as he sits up. "Seems pretty solid to me."

"Forget it," Nick answers, biting back a lecture about how much Greg's back is going to hurt him if he spends any more time on the table. "Besides, we need a shower."

"You just want an excuse to take that off," Greg says, reaching out to run his fingers along the front of Nick's vest.

And the truth is that until that moment Nick forgot he was still wearing it, but when Greg reminds him he flushes and looks down. "I'm sure as hell not sleeping in it."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Greg asks, but he doesn't argue when Nick pulls his vest open and slides it off. His t-shirt is next, falling in the pile with the rest of their clothes as Greg pushes him down the hall. 

When they reach the bathroom Nick pushes Greg back against the sink, hands on either side of him as he leans in for a hard kiss. They're both breathless when he finally lets Greg up for air, one hand sliding up Greg's back and the other gripping the counter hard. "I'll put it back on if you want."

It's the last thing he wants to do, but if it's what Greg needs he's willing to suffer a little embarrassment. As long as there's no photographic evidence he's willing to do pretty much anything Greg wants. But that doesn't stop him from being relieved when Greg smiles and shakes his head, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the corner of Nick's mouth before he answers.

"That's okay. I've already got what I want."

Nick grins and pulls Greg away from the counter, pausing long enough to turn on the water before he tugs Greg into the shower. Greg's arms slide around his neck, pushing Nick back against the tile to press their lips together, body pressed hard against Nick's to hold him against the wall. He moans against Greg's mouth when his cock stirs, and if this is what it gets him, he really has to remember to wear his vest home more often.


End file.
